Time After Time

Time Is Of The Essence; Time Is Money; There's No Time Like The Present...hell isn't Time Waits For No-one even another one of them oft used fillers? By golly, there is a even a widely popular magaznine with the single word title. The simple four letter word in this case evokes an in-the-moment reflection on what is going on and is reported around us, but what I am more interested in dissecting here is the mad rush we are all in to get to point B if you will. That point could be a destination, maybe an answer, or solution...perhaps even attaining something we know or think will make us happy; happier. My mother can tend to be one of those 'vocal drivers' shall we say, whether back seat or at the wheel for that matter. One of the comments she likes to spew out of her handy rolodex of observances is "In a hurry to get to that red light?" referencing the speeder alongside us who overtakes just to be rolling up at the same stop light we all eventually get to a half a mile ahead; of course not wanting to waste any idle moment, we make use of this time to scan radio stations, check our teeth or sneek a peak at the possible drama in the neighbouring vehicle awaiting a Go. But back to my mother's simple reflection; while I think a lot of us operate in the fashion closer related to pipsqueek speeder over yonder who leaves us in his/her dust; we could probably take a little lesson from Mumsy in this scene in one way or another. My favourite is hearing the stories of the fools who rush out and wait in the overnight line-ups for the newest gadget, gaming console, etc. when in just a couple of days time the same item could have been purchased with a proper nights sleep, no herding or trampling while the occasional choice word is likely shot like daggers towards perfect strangers, and the same enjoyment would soon be had. I suppose those who want to argue will say it's all about the here and now though. It's the now that concerns me. The perverbial 'biological clock' that we are haunted by. Tick tock. Now I've got myself in a tizzy about getting old. Back to time. I should throw in a Cindy Lauper CD. Speed dial...is it necessary? Are we really against dialing 5 or 6 extra keystrokes on the pad, while at the same time never remembering Aunt Edna's phone number if you actually needed her to bail you out of jail or something? I can assure you that down at the cop shop they don't have Auntie Edna's number handy. Okay I'm done ranting. I leave with you this quote I picked up a few weeks ago while ironically taking my time reading a much loved interior design magazine. "Life's roads are not all wide and straight; they are tricky and steep and those who only travel on sunny days will never reach their destination". Gotta run, I'm late.

Toodles

Life in Pictures

Call them photgraphs or snapshots, even a mug or portrait. What they evoke for all of us is memories. Whether it was caught in a moment red-handed or just a scene of pure bliss, we keep our stills near and dear. Your loved ones have made it safely out of your burning house, but you have one last chance to run inside and grab a single armload of possessions before the home is nothing more than a levelled pile of ash. You are going to emerge with photo albums right? While most of us are thankful to never face this scenario, it's what movies and books all portray. I'd bet my bottom dollar that we've at least thought of or discussed our views if made to face this situation. I was lucky enough to work for 5 or so years during my late teens and early twenties in a 1-hour photo and I saw that people were passionate about their photos, and capturing all details of their lives in print as their days passed by. An industry has been launched, thrived and grown all from the onset. Back in the day it was a 'picture show' that blew what we know now as 'major motion pictures' into Hollywood as it is. From old cepia images captured using 1-time burnout flash bulbs to a now thriving digital empire feeding a scrapbooking paradise. Unless egocentric, I think it's safe to say we all for the majority of the time hate ourselves in the photofinish, much less being the subject to begin with. Although my current driver's license picture is actually quite stunning, correct me if I'm wrong that most people think they look absolutely horrid in theirs. The morning of a wedding we all primp our hair, spending zillions on that and getting the make-up on that has to be flawless from whatever angle is best, praying to Jesus, Mary and Holy St. Joseph for no rain, and for what? You guessed it; the pictures that will be forever judged, 2nd mortgage taken out to pay for, but most importantly for decades to come to be a revolving door of explanations in which direction the family tree branched from which roots, all wearing pink taffeta. Mumsy and I will every so often bust out the old albums and through the rawness of the old black & white pictures I am able to fill in blanks with people I was never able to meet, in stories only heard, never seen. When I was a child I absolutely hated reading, and felt a little naughty when I was lucky enough to come across a novel assigned to me with pictures here and there between chapters. Skipping past a page without words just didn't seem right, but the accomplishment of being able to finish the book that much faster was nice. God Bless pictures in grade 4 reading material. I think about the modern day conundrums of usually anavoidable red-eyes; light reflections caused by mirrors or chandeliers that some spin lavishly into Syvlia Brown/John Edward-esque like orbs meaning something more than meets the eye; or the ever so clever self shot, generally containing a partly stretched out arm, and just way too much of 2 washed out faces filling the entire shot, double chin and all. Whatever it might be, we cherish our pictures and every emotion they stir-up. As is said, 'a picture is worth a thousand'...how many words are there in this entry? Say Cheese!

Toodles